Lace and Lies

by Nancy Warren

  “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. I’m too naïve. Too trusting. It’s my curse. However, I still believe my Prince Charming is out there.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “Somewhere.”

  Poor Margot Dodeson was so flustered by Teddy’s attention that she couldn’t remember what wool she wanted. Luckily, I kept records in my computer, so it was easy to figure out what she needed.

  As she was leaving, she whispered to me, “Of course, I won’t come to the book signing. I’m sure he was only joking.”

  I hadn’t known Teddy Lamont for very long, but I didn’t think he would ever joke about his business. No doubt he was anxious to make sure he had a good crowd. “I’m sure he did mean it. You should come. It’s over at Frogg’s Books, and it should be a good evening.”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “All the TV people will be there and the students. It would be nice for them to meet some of my regular customers.” I pressed one of the brochures in her hands as a reminder and then said goodbye.

  Then, feeling a bit like a martyr headed for some horrible punishment, I turned to relieve Douglas from Enid Selfe’s attentions. She was telling him how her third husband had left her after unfairly accusing her of mental cruelty. She held a lace handkerchief to the edge of her eye as though a tear might fall, but I doubted she’d dare cry with all that makeup on her face. The damage would be enormous.

  I forced a pleasant smile to my face and said, “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but Douglas, Teddy asked that you meet him at the hotel. I believe he wants to go over the evening’s itinerary with you.”

  Douglas’s look of gratitude was so intense I had to stifle a giggle. “Then I must go. My master awaits.” And with a quick wave to both of us, he left the shop. Molly and Becks left in his wake.

  Enid glanced around, and seeing only me left, she ditched the helpless, wronged woman role. She put her dry handkerchief back into her handbag and said, “Well, this is a nice little shop you have here. Now, how will the seating work for the filming?”

  When I told her it wasn’t up to me, she tried to find out where Teddy would be sitting and where the cameras would be set up. She was so clearly angling for the best spot that I knew if I was in charge of the seating I’d have done anything, including lying, to get her as far away from Teddy and the cameras as I could.

  However, it wasn’t my choice, and I truthfully didn’t know how Molly planned to arrange everyone. I suspected that part of tonight’s meet and greet was for her to see how the students interacted with each other and probably how they all looked together. No doubt she’d arrange us all in a way that worked best visually.

  Unlike Enid, I hoped to be in the most camera-unfriendly position.

  Chapter 3

  Frogg’s Books was what every bookstore should be. Not too big, with staff who genuinely loved books, lots of comfy corners for settling down to read, and events with authors. Charlie Wright and Alice Robinson worked together in the shop, and they made a perfect team. Charlie was a slightly vague bibliophile who could tell a customer the proper order of the most obscure fantasy series, while not being able to remember where he’d left his tea. Alice preferred Austen to Tolkien, Sophie Kinsella to George R.R. Martin and could be relied upon to remember customers’ names and where the books they’d ordered could be found.

  Their romance had been very one-sided, with Alice worshipping her gorgeous but emotionally clueless boss for years until he’d almost lost her. Then, finally realizing the treasure under his nose, he’d smartened up and asked her to marry him. It hadn’t been the most romantic proposal, as he’d been a murder suspect at the time, but Alice hadn’t let a little thing like impending criminal charges stop her from accepting. Talk about true love.

  Now, his name was cleared and they were as happy as a Valentine’s Day card. My assistant and fellow witch, Violet, and I had nudged the romance along with a touch of magic that nearly went horribly wrong, so I was really happy things had worked out. Since our shops were only across the street from each other, and Alice sometimes taught knitting classes for me, we were friendly. I was pleased that Charlie was hosting an evening with Teddy Lamont. I was hoping that he’d gain some of my customers, knitters who liked to read, and I’d gain some of his, readers who liked to knit and crochet. Even if there wasn’t much crossover business, it was nice for me not to be responsible for this event or to have to arrange the catering, book orders and the cleaning up once the evening was over.

  Naturally, I arrived early for the book signing. I’d left Becks supervising a team of people who were moving in a table and chairs, taping down cables on the floor and pretty much taking over every square inch of Cardinal Woolsey’s. Nyx had given the whole operation one disgusted look and bolted. Recalling what Sylvia had said about working with animals, I hoped she’d be back tomorrow for her close-up.

  I found Charlie settled in the chair behind the cash desk with his nose buried in a book. When I greeted him, he looked up and said, “Lucy. Wonderful to see you. This is a fascinating book.” He held up Teddy’s newest, Lace My Way. “I never knew there was so much that went into knitting lace. Or knitting anything else, for that matter.”

  He was nothing if not an eclectic reader.

  “Yes. I’m looking forward to his talk tonight. Any idea how many people you’re expecting?”

  He blinked as though he’d forgotten he was hosting a talk this evening and then said, “You’ll have to ask Alice. She’s got all that under control. She’s arranging chairs in the back.”

  Like Cardinal Woolsey’s, Frogg’s Books had a back area where they kept the less popular books, and there was a large, open space suitable for author talks. I thanked him and headed back.

  Alice was well-organized as always. She had about thirty chairs set up, and there were still a couple of couches at the back for overflow, as well as some standing room, if it came to that. A podium and screen were set up for Teddy, and there was a long table with a good stack of his most recent book on lace as well as stacks of his older books for sale.

  She was just placing a jug of water and a glass on the podium when I walked in. Alice had blossomed in the time I’d known her. She’d always been attractive, with long, red hair and the kind of clear, fine skin that seems particularly English. However, she’d come into her own in the last few months.

  We hugged a greeting, but before I could ask how many people were expected tonight, Alice grabbed my shoulders and jumped up and down, squealing, “You won’t believe it.”

  Alice wasn’t the jumping, squealing type, so I knew something momentous had happened. Fortunately, her eyes were glowing and her cheeks were flushed in a good way, so I figured it was something good.

  “What is it?”

  “We’ve set a date for the wedding!”

  I felt as excited as a witch whose love potion worked can feel. Alice and Charlie were wonderful people who belonged together, so it was natural that I began jumping up and down and squealing too. Our arms were on each other’s shoulders, and sheer happiness kept us going until we were breathless. Then we pulled apart, laughing. “Tell me everything,” I said, slightly hoarse thanks to the squealing.

  “It’s going to be a garden wedding.”

  “Lovely,” I said. Given the usual wet weather in the British Isles, this was a brave choice.

  “Charlie wanted to have it on the grounds of Cardinal College, since it’s his old college, but…” She made a face, and I nodded. She didn’t have to explain her reluctance to get married at the college. Bad things had happened there in the course of their slightly rocky courtship.

  “I thought maybe the shop, as that’s where we met and fell in love, but Charlie thinks it’s too associated with work. We were at a standstill until Rafe offered to host the wedding at his manor house.”

  I felt warm and fuzzy that Rafe was doing something so nice. He’d become a lot less reclusive in the last few months and seemed to be trying to fit
in with humans better. Still, this was seriously generous. He wouldn’t be able to control who was invited, and Rafe guarded his privacy the way billionaires guard their billions.

  “He and Charlie know each other, of course, through the book business. They’re both involved with Cardinal College, and both are Friends of the Bodleian, but still, it’s incredibly generous. You know how beautiful his home is. I could never have dreamed of having such a beautiful spot for my wedding.”

  “That’s great. When’s the big day?”

  “The fifth of August. We’re having the wedding on the Monday when both our shops are closed.” She took a deep breath and clasped her hands together. “Lucy, will you be in my bridal party?”

  I was thrilled to be asked and quite surprised. “Of course I will. I’d be honored.”

  She hugged me. “You gave me the courage to believe I could end up with Charlie, and I did. You’re as special to me as a sister.”

  I felt my eyes mist. “I feel the same.”

  “Good, then it’s settled.” She pressed the tasteful diamond solitaire on her ring finger as though for good luck, then turned to practical matters. “Tonight’s looking to be a very busy evening. I think we’ll have a full house. At least forty people.”

  Teddy Lamont probably could have filled a much larger space for his book signing, but the show producers had wanted to keep the intimate vibe going, and Frogg’s Books was both intimate and visually appealing.

  Enid Selfe walked in with a gorgeous young black woman I identified as Annabel, the London bond trader who was also in the class. They didn’t seem comfortable with each other, more as though they had arrived at the same time and were being polite.

  I also wanted to be polite, so I walked forward just in time to hear Enid say to Annabel, “You speak such good English. Were you born here?”

  It was one of those moments when I wished that I had walked the other way so I hadn’t overheard that appalling comment, and then swiftly tried to formulate a forgetting spell so I could delete this awkward moment from time. However, before I could do that, Annabel said, “I was born in London. And so were my parents, but my grandparents came over from Jamaica. They were ever so grateful to the British government for everything you did for them.” Sometimes British sarcasm slides right by me, but this time I was fairly certain she’d said the words with a broad hint of irony.

  Enid didn’t catch it. She gave what could only be termed a condescending smile and said, “Oh yes, I know all about the Windrush generation. My third husband, Horace Crisfield, was with the immigration department. It was shocking how many people snuck into this country without proper papers, not even a passport. Of course, they had to be sent home. It was only right.”

  I hadn’t lived in the UK long, but I’d heard about the Windrush scandal. After WWII, a number of Jamaicans had come to the UK when the 1948 nationality act gave commonwealth citizens the right to settle in the UK. Many arrived on a ship called Windrush. They lived in the UK and assimilated. They’d had children, bought homes, built businesses. In an immigration crackdown from 2009 to 2018, the government had begun deporting people who didn’t have passports or the papers to prove they’d arrived legally. Some of those deported had left Jamaica as babies and never been back. The government backed down in the wake of massive public outrage, but not before lives had been ruined, sometimes irretrievably. The glance Annabel sent to the former Mrs. Crisfield was not a friendly one. Forgetting spell. Forgetting spell. Trust me to forget the spell I really needed right now.

  “What did you say your husband’s name was?”

  “Horace Crisfield.”

  I thought Annabel was about to say more, but a gorgeous guy about her own age arrived. She must have recognized him from his photo, as I did. “You must be Ryan.”

  “Yeah. And you’re Annabel.” He chuckled. “This is a bit like an online date.”

  I wanted to introduce myself, but Annabel took the excuse to turn her back on us, leaving me with Enid.

  I tried to make small talk with Enid, but she spent the whole time looking over my shoulder to see if there was someone more interesting to talk to. Oh, I hoped she found someone and soon. I wanted to like the students, but I found that I was taking a strong dislike to Enid Selfe.

  As more people arrived, I wished someone would come and rescue me the same way that Ryan had rescued Annabel, when to my relief, Enid suddenly said, “Oh good,” in a voice like a purr. Quickly she slipped a compact out of her handbag and checked her appearance and then, with a practiced efficiency, swiped her lips with lipstick in a gold case that I recognized as Dior and far beyond my budget. A pretty enamel canister followed, and she spritzed her neck with perfume.

  Once she’d freshened her appearance and made me sneeze when some of her perfume went up my nose, she said, “Excuse me, Lucy. I’ve just spotted an old friend.” What she really meant was, “Excuse me, Lucy. I’ve just seen someone more interesting to talk to than you.”

  As rude as she was, I was relieved, except that it was probably Teddy Lamont or Douglas she was beelining for and somebody would have to go and rescue them. Probably me.

  I followed her progress and then realized it wasn’t Teddy Lamont or Douglas who had caused the very female reaction. In fact, I was having the same reaction myself. Rafe Crosyer had just entered the room. He was tall, dark, and commanding. As a vampire, he naturally had the reputation of being cold, bloodsucking and predatory, but from the determined way Enid Selfe was threading her way toward him, I thought he had some competition.

  He was taller than nearly everyone there, and his eyes scanned the room as though looking for someone. Then his gaze met mine, and I had the pleasant thrill of realizing it had been me he’d been looking for. His gray-blue eyes lightened, and he took a step toward me. Only one step, however, before Enid moved to cut him off. He looked slightly surprised at the interruption and gazed down at her.

  It was fascinating to watch the way that woman who’d looked bored and barely present when I was speaking to her was suddenly transformed into a woman of charm and wit. I heard a tinkle of silvery laughter and, to my surprise, instead of finding an excuse to slip away from her, Rafe actually seemed to find her conversation interesting. To my shock, I saw her raise her perfectly manicured hand and touch his chest as though to emphasize whatever fascinating thing she’d just said. Rafe’s chuckle was low and deep, and it took a long time for her to move her hand off his chest.

  Not wanting to be caught staring, I turned to find Margot Dodeson standing at my elbow. She was also looking over at Rafe. He did draw the eye. I pulled my gaze away with an effort. “Margot. I’m so glad you came.”

  “I wasn’t sure, but he did specially invite me.” She glanced over at Teddy, who’d just come in and was already surrounded. “Maybe it was a bad idea.”

  “No. He’ll be so pleased.”

  She nodded, looking unsure. Fortunately, Charlie came up. She must shop here as well. “Margot. Pleasure to see you. I know this is meant to be a knitting evening, but there’s a new historical novelist you might like. She’s a cross between Hilary Mantel and Margaret Atwood.” Wow, I thought, that was some cross. Margot looked thrilled that Charlie knew her and obviously knew her reading tastes. He led her away to the front part of the shop.

  “Don’t be late for the talk,” I warned them. Charlie would forget they were hosting an author evening if he got caught up with literary chitchat.

  Margot said, “Don’t worry. I’ll come back.”

  Rafe wandered up, and I said, “You seem to have made a new friend.”

  He glanced back at Enid, who was now talking to a prosperous-looking older gentleman whose wife was perusing Teddy’s latest. “Reacquainted with an old friend, in fact. She’s a Friend of the Bodleian.”

  “Ha. I don’t think it’s the Bodleian she’s interested in befriending.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Rafe. She was hitting on you.”

  He looked down h
is long nose at me. “It does happen, you know.”

  “But she’s so much older than you are.”

  “Actually, I’m several hundred years older than she.”

  “But—do you like her?”

  “I find her quite charming. And she knows a great deal about Egyptian history, which is one of my interests.”

  No wonder the woman had married so many times. She obviously had something that she could turn on for men or, I thought unkindly, maybe only rich, eligible men, and Rafe was certainly one of those, if you discounted his eating disorder and the whole undead thing.

  I needed to get my head around this. “But do you like her, like her?”

  When he was teasing me, he had a way of looking very serious, but there was always a disturbing twinkle in his eye. He had it now. “Currently, my romantic interest lies elsewhere.”

  Naturally, that made me blush and realize—not for the first time—that he had several hundred more years’ experience at flirtation, relationships and love than I did.

  I said, “Well, I don’t like her.”

  He looked over at Enid, who was now talking to Teddy, and then back at me. “I suspect she may be one of those people who doesn’t waste her charm or attention unless she believes it will bring her some return.”

  I was thankful that he could see through the woman. I didn’t own the man, and in spite of our attraction, I was nervous about getting involved with a vampire. Still, I didn’t want him getting caught up with someone like Enid.

  Before I could say more, Rafe said softly, “Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble.” I followed his gaze, but his words had already telegraphed who would be coming in. Sure enough, while it wasn’t the twisted sisters of Macbeth, it was three witches—my cousin Violet, my great-aunt Lavinia, and the head of our coven, Margaret Twigg. Violet was my shop assistant and probably believed she was my mentor, but in truth she was more likely to drag me into trouble than help me learn my magic. She was a superb knitter, though, and for that reason alone I was happy to have her working at Cardinal Woolsey’s. Also, it was nice to have someone working in the shop who wouldn’t freak out if flames accidentally started shooting out of my fingertips. Not that that happened so much anymore. I was learning control, but since my magic was more innate than learned, I still screwed up.